Here’s my most Italian image. I was on top of a nice size hill near Mt. Etna. I snow-shoed up the hill and was enjoying the view with my classic shades.

I also felt super Italian the other day when I was sitting at home waiting for the Bombola delivery. A bombola is the term for a propane gas tank that is delivered to homes who are not on “city gas.” Of course, you can also fetch your own bombola tank, but that’s not how we’re rolling right now. Anyway – the important Italian moment arrived when I heard the gate click and walked out onto the balcony to see if it was the delivery man (sigh, this is Sicilian, they ARE all men). Instead of the delivery truck, I saw one of my neighbors. He is a genial old man who farms the orchards alongside the property and who is always happy. Well, he is always willing to smile. We had a lovely exchange, including talk about the current stormy weather, and well wishes for a “buona giornata” (“Have a nice day” – essentially). As my hands rested on the wrought-iron railing of the balcony, I could feel myself leaning forward to hear him better. Instantly, I foresaw myself bent over, leaning on the railing as an Italian nonna.